


You're Not There

by imagining_supernatural



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Character Death, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Implied Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-14
Updated: 2017-10-14
Packaged: 2019-01-17 07:22:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12360519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imagining_supernatural/pseuds/imagining_supernatural
Summary: Based on the song: You're Not There by Lukas GrahamDean reminisces about memories of you as he continues living his life... without you.





	You're Not There

          Her gratitude was etched into every worry line and wrinkle on her face as she hugged her little boy close. Over his shoulder, the woman stared up at Dean with watery eyes. “Thank you so much!”

          With a little wave and smile, Dean turned and walked away. Another hunt and another win. Everyone made it out alive except for the monster. A year ago he would have celebrated with you. A year ago, he would have let your excitement at seeing a family reunited wash over him. A year ago, you would have wrapped your arm around his waist and guided him to the Impala with a beautiful smile painted on your lips.

          A year ago, everything was different.

* * *

_When Dean first met you, he had been lost. He’d been an utter disaster ever since Sam jumped into the Cage at Stull Cemetery. Eight months had passed, and some days he couldn’t even manage to get out of bed to head to the bar down the street. But one night, he found himself trudging out of the old motel room and slipping into the sea of bodies at the grimy bar. Everyone gave him a wide berth, not willing to mess with him._

_Then you slid onto the bar stool next to him and ordered whiskey. For the first ten minutes, both of you drank in silence. Something about you stirred Dean’s senses again. He couldn’t help but glance over at you every few minutes._

_It was after your second drink that you turned to him. “Who’d you lose?”_

_“What?” His voice cracked with disuse, and his vocal chords struggled against the unfamiliar feeling of being used._

_“You have that same look I see every time I look in the mirror.” There was soft regret dancing along your syllables. “Someone close to you died recently, didn’t they?”_

_Dean grunted and turned back to his drink. Not even a pretty face was going to get him to talk about Sam._

_“My sister,” you kept talking, despite Dean’s obvious brush off. “She was only twelve and she was the strongest person I knew. But the leukemia was stronger.”_

_Despite his strongest effort, Dean felt his heartstrings tug. Twelve years old. Still though, he didn’t say anything._

_“It’s hard to talk about. I get that.” Out of the corner of his eyes, Dean saw you drag your finger around the rim of your glass. “It doesn’t get easier either. You just grow more numb.”_

_“Hey, Y/N,” the bartender said, leaning against the counter. “Anna just called. Janice is at the station again.”_

_Y/N. Your name rang through Dean’s mind as you pulled out a few dollars and handed it to the bartender. “Thanks. Guess I’ll go bail her out again.” You stood up and curled your hand on Dean’s shoulder. His muscles jumped at the unexpected contact and he automatically raised his eyes to yours. There was a deep understanding in your expression, making Dean uncomfortable. “Take it easy, okay?”_

_And that was that. You walked away._

_Something about that one conversation where he’d only said one word changed something within Dean. The next night, it was easier to leave the motel room. He told himself that he wasn’t looking forward to seeing you again. Y/N, the stranger with the comforting touch. No, he just wanted a drink._

_Still though, he had been disappointed when you didn’t show up._

* * *

          “There have been a few complaints around the neighborhood about the electricity and heating. Have you had any problems with flickering lights or cold spots?”

          Dean listened intently while the old couple explained a few of their woes with their old house. Once he managed to extract himself from their house and incessant offers of lemonade, he headed back to his hotel room for some research. All the signs pointed to a ghost, but he wanted to be sure.

          You taught him to always double check.

* * *

_“Ghosts? Those are real?”_

_“Yeah,” Dean nodded, lightly trailing his fingers over your bare shoulder. Two months had passed since that first night in the bar. Since then, you’d managed to worm your way into Dean’s life. It started with a few more one sided conversations, then he started replying. You hadn’t reacted the first time he said something._

_Maybe that was what made it easier. You didn’t treat him like he was project. You didn’t celebrate any of those bullshit milestones about overcoming grief. There wasn’t a moment of triumph the first time he spoke. And when he finally said Sam’s name, you hadn’t treated that like a big deal._

_And somehow, here you two were, just two months later. Dean was telling you about his real story in the lowlight of his hotel room. Cool light from the dim lamp highlighted the muscles of your bare back as you lay on your stomach, hugging a pillow to your chest._

_“Do vampires really sparkle?” Your lips were twisted into a small smile_

_“Definitely not.” Dean rolled his eyes and chuckled._

_He’s been doing that a few times recently. Laughing. There was something about you that seemed to lower his walls._

_You shifted until you were on your side facing Dean. His eyelids fluttered closed when you reached up and traced your fingers over the planes of his face. Everywhere your skin touched his awakened his nerves. Then your lips covered his and his whole body was on fire again._

_The kiss ended all too soon and he slowly opened his eyes to see you watching him soberly. “Thank you, Dean. For saving the world.”_

_“I didn’t do anything.” Sharp pain replaced the comforting fire that your touch elicited. This pain was familiar. It showed up every time he thought of that day in the cemetery. Every time he replayed those final moments before Sam jumped._

_“You let him go.” The shock of your whisper and hand on his chest broke him out of those memories. “You agreed to be left behind. That’s… that’s harder than being the one to jump.”_

_He squeezed his eyes closed against the pain and memories._

_You slid your hand from his chest to his back and pulled your body tight to his. “Anyway. That’s enough of that.”_

_Tilting your head up, you peppered kisses along Dean’s jaw. It was as if you knew that he needed a few minutes to get over this conversation, because you kept each touch light. Your fingers massaged into his tight muscles and slowly, Dean relaxed. Then he wrapped his arms around you, rolling over until his body covered yours and he buried himself in your comfort._

* * *

          The ink dried on the page, its shine disappearing. Dean stared at the words and wished that you would walk through the door. He wished that he could hear your voice one more time. He wished that you would respond to the words he’d written.

          He’d never been one to keep a hunting journal. Sure, John and Bobby’s journals helped on plenty of hunts, but he just never had time to write about each hunt.

          But the past year, he wrote every single night. Each entry started out with  _Dear Y/N_  and ended with  _Love, Dean_. It hurt to write these stories. You weren’t in them, and he had so many stories that featured you. You made him a better man, and Dean was forever grateful to you for that. Just as he would forever miss you.

* * *

_“I still don’t like this,” Dean grumbled. Next to him, you just laughed._

_“C’mon, babe! I rocked it. I mean, I’m completely covered in blood, but none of it is mine. That’s pretty good for a hunter, right?”_

          “ _Hunting is…”_

_“Exactly what we need. You lost your whole family and I lost both of my sisters within a year of each other. Saving those people today… it helped. And I know that you felt that too. We can stop other people from losing people like we have.”_

_Looking over at you, Dean couldn’t bring himself to ruin your bright views of what hunting was. The wind from the open window of the Impala was teasing your hair, and you had such a hopeful look on your face._

_“We had this saying, me and Sam._ Saving people. Hunting things. The family business. _” He looked out at the expanse of road in front of him. “I guess that’s what this has always been about.”_

_“Saving people. We can do that, Dean. We can save people for our families.”_

* * *

          A couple of kids ran past Dean, giggling and chasing each other. He recognized one as a child he had saved a year ago with you. If you hadn’t pulled him out of his depression after Sam died, that kid might have been dead right now.

          It was because of you that Dean had a purpose again. You stayed with him for months, weathering the mood swings and anger. You’d made Dean into the man he was today. Because of you, Dean could live again. He followed your light out of his darkness.

          A year ago, he finally admitted that he could become better, because of you.

* * *

_“Quick in, get the heads rolling, quick out,” Dean whispered harshly, eyeing the run-down, abandoned house in the middle of the woods. “I have a bad feeling about this one.”_

_“We got this,” you reassured him. “Just a few vamps. Like you said, quick in, quick out. We’ll be back in town in an hour—two tops.”_

_Your words did nothing to soothe his worries, which put him even more on edge. You always knew the right things to say. Normally, your very presence was enough to calm his nerves, but not right now._

_But he didn’t say anything else._

_Instead, Dean motioned for you to follow him into the vamp nest. It didn’t take long before the bloodsuckers jumped out and the fight started. You got separated, but Dean could hear you fighting, so he didn’t worry too badly. Once the last vamp was down, Dean looked around._

_“Y/N?” he called out, voice echoing through the carnage._

_You didn’t reply._

_Dean’s blood pressure skyrocketed and he tore through all of the rooms, searching for you. “Y/N! C’mon, sweetheart. Where are you?”_

_It wasn’t until he got to the kitchen that he found you laying on the floor, unmoving. “No, no, no. Y/N!”_

_There was too much blood and no heartbeat. Dean’s hands skipped over your body, searching for a wound to heal. His fingers came back slick with your blood when he inspected your side, and his entire world fell away when he pulled up your shirt and saw the giant, gory hole._

_“Don’t leave me, Y/N.” Dean gathered you into his arms and sobbed into your shoulder, begging and hoping for a shred of life._

_But you weren’t there._

* * *

          “Sometimes I see someone who looks like you. I know it’s stupid, but I always think it really is you.”

          Just like with the journal, Dean knew that your gravestone wasn’t going to respond. But he still came to visit every month. Every damn month since you died, Dean found himself sitting over your grave. He knew that you’re not there. Not really. Just your body. Your soul was in Heaven. That was the only thing he was sure of.

          “You would be proud of me. That man you thought I could always become—I’m getting there. I just wish you were here. Everything was better when you were with me.”

          When you met, the two of you had been two broken souls. But you’d seen a way out, and took Dean along for the ride. It wasn’t fair that you were the one who died. The world still needed you.

          “You once told me that it never gets easier, you just keep getting more numb. Everyone else says that time heals all wounds, but we both know it doesn’t. I’ll never forget you, Y/N. And I don’t want to be numb. I want to feel you. I want to feel this pain and know that you were real. Because without this pain, I might forget. I don’t want to forget. I want to remember all of it. All of the good times and the bad… I get it now. Letting go and being left behind is harder than being the one to jump. But you showed me that I can keep moving. And I’m going to keep moving for you.”


End file.
